


Lord Have Mercy On My Rough and Rowdy Ways

by FrecklesHideNothing



Series: You and Me Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, BAMF!Cas, EMT Dean, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Shipper!Sam, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:38:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrecklesHideNothing/pseuds/FrecklesHideNothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean struggles to transition his feelings for Cas from something brotherly to something... well... much less brotherly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Always Were a Stubborn Kid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rocketgirl2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocketgirl2/gifts).



> This is a blurring of a couple of my Secret Santa prompts:  
> 'They've fought off Hell, Heaven, and Purgatory together, so why is Earth so hard?'  
> and  
> 'They find each other. They save each other. They lose each other. It's a cycle Dean wants to break. 
> 
> I know it doesn't really fit any of these perfectly, but they were the inspiration for where the characters took me. Hopefully I did Charlie justice and she's not too formulaic!
> 
> Also, apologies for minimal smut, but the length of this fic got away from me somewhat. I'm tempted to continue but I suppose we'll just have to see how it goes.
> 
> Anyway, hope you like it! Happy Holidays/Winter Hiatus.

The door closing wasn’t what drew his attention; Dean had been anticipating Sam and Cas’ return from the bar at some point, and a few minutes shy of midnight seemed like a reasonable time to conclude their evening. No, the thing that piqued his interest was the harsh whispering from the corridor. He sighed and took a moment to remember that there was a time before this bullshit was his life; probably best to try to emulate his mother in a situation like this, rather than his father.

Dean let the book he had been reading slip from his thighs and on to the comforter as he moved towards the edge of the bed. He toyed with the idea of merely eavesdropping on the rapidly escalating argument between his brother and their friend, when Cas’ terse ‘Dean doesn’t have to know!’ propelled him towards the door. Has this been a film, he would have opened the door to segue seamlessly into the conversation while their shocked faces took in his arrival. As is was, his timing was perhaps a little too enthusiastic and although Sam’s scoffing reply to Cas died in his throat, both boys turned to look at Dean with the knowledge that his involvement in their argument was inevitable as it was regrettable.

The moment seemed frozen and a silence seemed to stretch down the whole corridor; invading the tentative detente that the three of them had attempted to broker in recent weeks. Dean narrowed his eyes, assessing. His brother had small flecks of blood speckled along his jaw line and up towards his cheekbone like monstrous freckles. He made an aborted move to hide the swollen knuckles of his right hand behind his thigh, but huffed a laugh and shrugged at Cas, as if to say ‘told you he’d notice’. He grinned ruefully at Dean and extended his arms in order to prove that he was otherwise unharmed. Cas was a very different picture. He clutched his wadded up pale blue shirt to his face. It left him standing in his white undershirt and military style jacket; Dean’s eyes tracked down from Cas’ exposed collarbone down towards the plume of red that had seeped into the cotton before he locked eyes with Cas’ fierce stare. Dean felt his irritation begin to bubble to the surface, he might have chosen to remain at home this evening, but that didn’t make him the nightgown-clutching dame in this scenario. He raised his eyebrow and tipped his head in question, only belatedly recognizing the familiarity of the gesture when no answer proved to be forthcoming. Instead Cas glared back in defiance, tipping his chin up slightly like the sullen teenager he had been not so long ago and Dean found himself growing bored of this shit pretty damn quickly. He side-eyed his brother one last time in an appeal for sanity, clarity or some sort of enlightenment, religious or otherwise, before he decided employ his own brand of charm to break the tension. Sam, for his part, seemed intent on upholding whatever sacred oath Cas has sworn him to.

  
‘Alright, I’ll bite,’ he said, drawing a weary hand down his face and cupping his own jaw in irritation. ‘Which of you two chuckle heads is going to explain what happened here?’ He chose to ignore the faint ring of his father that those words seemed to cause to echo in his mind.

  
‘Well,’ began Sam, only to be quickly silenced by Cas forcing himself bodily into the conversation, shoulder connecting with Sam’s bicep.

  
‘It was nothing; a misunderstanding. We’re going to bed now.’ The last was directed straight at Sam and offered no room for disagreement.

  
‘Yeah. Yeah, okay. I am pretty tired. I guess I’ll see you in the morning, Dean,’ said Sam, already retreating from the conversation towards the safety of his room.

  
‘Sammy! Get back here and explain this shit to me, right this second!’ Sam had long since closed the door to his room but anger seemed to be the easiest emotion to channel right now; better that than the crippling fear about what events had transpired to leave Cas with a bloodied nose that he couldn’t yet gauge whether or not was also broken. Not to mention the guilt that he hadn’t been there to prevent it. ‘Alright, let me have a look,’ he said motioning Cas towards the kitchen where he kept the first aid kit.

  
‘It’s none of your concern,’ muttered Cas as he tried to brush past Dean to get to the bathroom.

  
Okay, Dean was now entirely done with this bullshit.

  
‘”Not my concern”? Cas, did you forget that I’m your legal guardian? I think ‘concern’ was pretty much covered in the job description.’

  
If possible, Cas’ eyes darkened even further. ‘Please,’ he scoffed, look of petulant indignation somewhat ruined by the bloodied shirt still obscuring most of his face. ‘You haven’t been my legal guardian for nearly a month now.’

  
‘Bullshit! You live under my roof; I buy the food that you and Sam seem to consume at such a ridiculous rate. I’m actually genuinely worry you both have tape worms, by the way, and most importantly, I’m the legally obligated to make sure you stay safe.’

Cas snorted and made a move to push past Dean who reached out on instinct and grabbed Cas around his upper arm. He was much more solid that Dean had anticipated and his fingers came nowhere close to meeting around the solid, dense muscle.

Cas attempted to shake him off, but Dean tightened his grip in frustration. ‘Without me, you’re just some… some giant child!’

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but he was buoyed by the sense of righteous indignation that only comes with a prolonged exposure to teenagers. Not that Sam and Cas were teenagers any more, but really, what was the difference at this point?

Cas’ eyes flashed a ferociousness that Dean was becoming intimately acquainted with. He braced himself for some suitably snarky response, but Cas merely narrowed his eyes and beckoned Dean forward with a twitch of the index and middle finger of his free hand. Dean’s heartbeat was still thundering in his inner ear as he found himself leaning into Cas’ body heat.

  
‘You’re not my father,’ he growled, ‘I learned my lesson; I may have acquiesced to him for far longer than was good for me, but you are not his replacement.’

‘Cas…’ Dean stuttered, heat prickling his lower jaw as guilt and frustration warred to take control of his emotions.

‘No. No more; if you don’t want me here any more, that’s a situation I would be happy to remedy.’ And with that, he blustered past Dean and slammed into his own room.

  
The silence of the corridor choked him.

  
‘Idiot.’ Dean barely resisted the temptation to throw his fist firmly into the plasterboard. Instead, he settled for raking his fingers through his hair and a few more choice profanities before thundering into his own room again.

 

 

 

Sam’s knock was as inevitable as it was hesitant.

  
‘Dean?’

  
‘Yeah, I’m still up, no need to whisper.’ Dean may have been lying on his bed, but he was about as far from being able to sleep as it was possible to be at this time of night.

  
‘You know he didn’t mean what he said, right?’ Dean flipped his gaze to take in his brother, still hovering over the threshold of the room.

‘I dunno, Sam, he seems pretty damn sure of himself.’ He recommenced his inspection of the ceiling above his bed.

‘Dean… please…’

‘Don’t worry, Sammy, I won’t let him leave; he’s just blowing off steam. I hope.’ Dean pushed himself up onto his elbows to look at Sam in the eye. ‘You ready to tell me what happened tonight?’

‘I dunno, Dean; Cas made me swear I wouldn’t tell you,’ said Sam as he suddenly became incredibly interested in his nail beds. Dean moved to sit up properly.

‘What could he possibly want me to not know? He’s lived with us for four years, I know everything about the kid – hell, I was there the first time he drank too much and tossed his cookies all over his bed.’ Dean’s frustration was tempered by the memory of a hung over, fetal Cas lying on the sofa begging for a merciful death the next day.

‘I guess he’s embarrassed…’ hedged Sam, refusing to meet Dean’s eye. ‘You’re kind of hard to live up to,’ he muttered.

‘What are you talking about? The kid’s been in and out of our lives for as long as I remember, I don’t see why he’s suddenly freaking out about me knowing he lost some bar fight. It was a bar fight, right?’

‘Yeah, but clearly he’s embarrassed, maybe you could respect that?’

‘Respect that?’ echoed Dean, ‘Dude, I’ve been in so many bar fights I’ve lost count of the split lips and black eyes. What I don’t understand is why he’s refusing to tell me about it? We should be celebrating; it’s a rite of passage! Did he at least put the asshole in his place?’

‘Dean!’ Sam admonished.

‘Oh come on, I bet the other guy looks worse.’

‘No Dean, the girl…’ began Sam in a fit of frustration.

‘A girl hit him!’ Dean crowed, his voice echoing around the room as he leapt from the bed and landed in front of Sam. ‘I knew he wasn’t much of fighter, but don’t tell me he got his ass handed to him by a girl, that’s –‘

‘Dean, no! And lower your voice, you idiot, we’re not meant to be talking about this, remember?’ Sam huffed and checked that the door was fully closed before walking further into Dean’s room. ‘He got hit because of the girl,’ Sam began, but Dean’s stomach had already soured and suddenly the story wasn’t quite so hysterical.

‘I see. So he hit on someone else’s girlfriend? Rookie move, I thought I taught you boys better than that? You guys are plenty pretty enough to have your pick rather than trying to break up someone else’s relationship, Cas should know better than that,’ Dean was blustering now, he could feel it, but it felt good to have a cause to channel his frustration into.

‘Dean, that’s not – Cas’ not…’

‘Cas is an idiot, end of story.’

‘Dean!’ Sam’s indignant shout might not have been quite so impressive if it hadn’t been coupled with the slam of the front door.

 

 

‘Fuck,’ breathed Dean before the room descended into a thick silence, only this time it was laced with animosity between the brothers.

‘Dean,’ began Sam.

‘Don’t. Just don’t.'

‘But Dean –‘

‘So help me, Sam, if you finish that sentence, I will not be accountable for my actions.’

‘Fine. Okay. Whatever you want, Dean. I’m going to try call him and at least make sure he has some where to stay tonight.’ Sam’s contempt was clear, clipped tone and unapologetic eye contact that only served to make Dean feel like an even bigger asshole.

‘Does he?’

‘He’ll probably go to Meg’s…’

‘Meg’s?’ An asshole who apparently couldn’t keep himself in check; he knew his voice sounded poisonous, even to his own ears.

‘Yes, Dean: Meg’s. They’re friends for whatever reason. Now if you’ll excuse me.’ Sam didn’t wait for Dean to acknowledge his departure; he just walked from the room leaving the door wide open out of spite.

 

 

Dean sat heavily on his bed, staring at the gaping door. The hardback cover of book he’d been reading earlier bit into his thigh, but he made no move to change position. This wasn’t how their lives were supposed to be; this was meant to be the easy bit, now that they were all together. The Winchesters had been sidelined for years while they watched Cas go through his own private hell, but they’d eventually rescued him and things were supposed to be better. So why had Dean and Cas been fighting like cat and dog recently? Why was Sam keeping secrets from him? And who the fuck decided Dean Winchester was the one responsible for solving everyone else’s problems?


	2. Like Being Thrown into the Path of a Lightning Bolt

‘So he’s like your adopted son?’

‘Hmm? Sorry, I wasn’t really listening, what did you say?’ Dean resumed pouring coffee into his travel cup.

‘Cas; like your son?’ repeated Charlie, reaching across Dean for a sugar packet and only just leaping out the way with a yelp as Dean’s coffee took a swan dive onto the floor of their break room.

‘Fuck!’ he spluttered, jumping back before his uniform became as sopping as the carpet. ‘Hell no, he’s not my son, Charlie! Jesus. For one, the kid’s twenty-one and I know I’m just a lowly EMT compared to your Ladyship, but even I can do that math that he aint my kid!’

‘Well you are pushing ever closer to your thirties, Dean, who knows what children of yours are going to get dumped on the doorstep one day?’ Charlie teased. ‘And I said ‘like’ your kid, dumbass.’

‘Shut it, Red,’ grumbled Dean, ‘And Cas wasn’t dumped on the doorstep. Well he was, but he dumped himself there, or Sam did. Anyway, that’s not the point; the point is he’s not my son, I was his legal guardian until he turned twenty-one and could access his inheritance.’

 

 

‘So when did he turn twenty-one?’ Charlie stirred her fourth sugar packet into her coffee cup, and Dean’s teeth couldn’t help but ache in sympathy as she took a sip.

‘A couple of weeks ago.’

‘And when did the trouble between you start?’ She finally seemed to deem her coffee sweet enough and screwed the cap of her mug on securely.

‘A couple of weeks before that,’ sighed Dean. He’d long gone off the idea of coffee since he’d be carrying the aroma around on his clothing for the rest of the shift, but the looming hours necessitated caffeine, so he’d take his lumps like a big boy.

‘And has his relationship with Sam changed in this time?’ Charlie paused briefly to check her hair in mirror that some kind soul has thought to hang. Dean has been saved more than once by a quick glace as he was leaving, only to discover he had a smear of some vaguely identifiable food across his face that none of his asshole colleagues had thought to tell him about. He’s not comfortable addressing the fact that he’s not keen to look himself in the eye today.

‘No. They’re still close from what I can tell. Been busy lately, I guess, but I think I’d notice a change in their friendship.’ Dean can feel his cheeks beginning to prickle with guilt, and he knew it was going to make him look like he was blushing; his only hope is that Charlie was good people and wouldn't point it out.

‘So why do you feel guilty?’ Dean pauses momentarily to thank Life for taking every opportunity to screw him over, no matter how small.

‘I don’t feel guilty.’ Liar. ‘I just don’t know how to talk to him any more without it escalating into a shouting match.’ Partial truth, points for effort.

Charlie hummed as she twisted a stray strand of hair back up into the bun she tended to wear for work.

‘”Hmm”, what? You’re the one who wanted the story, how about you make with the magic female intuition mojo and fix it?’

  
Charlie stopped them both dead in their tracks to look Dean in the eye for a very long, very uncomfortable few seconds. ‘Dean Winchester, you are a complete ass, do you know that?’ He was half way through vague noise of protest when she bulldozed straight past. ‘Firstly, there is no ‘magic female intuition mojo’, I pay attention to others and I have the ability to empathise, it's really not rocket science. But more importantly, I’m not some generic gatekeeper shoehorned into your life to guide you on your quest so that you can magically save the day while I get sweet FA credit,’ she poked him sharply in the chest. ‘ And I should kick your ass for even suggesting I would waste magical powers on this doozy of a situation you’ve got yourself into.'

‘I’ve got myself in! Charlie…’

‘Hush up, dear boy, because this is the most important part: I would also like it formally noted that you have in no way told me the whole story. I doubt you’ve even told me the prologue.’ And with that she clapped his cheek in the most patronizing manner she could muster, turned on her heel and left him, like the idiot he was, standing in the middle of the corridor.

 

 

His day was full of cases that only seemed intent on making his nerves even more fraught than they already were. Not that Dean was conceited enough to think that the world revolved around him and his problems, but days like today made it hard to not feel the victim of some heartless deity. He couldn’t help he groan that escaped as he sank into the seat opposite Charlie; they had a long standing agreement that shitty days were followed by beer, burgers and some sort of DVD therapy. Charlie hid her smile in her beer, but couldn’t resist poking Dean a little more.

‘You’re definitely becoming the grumpy old man I always knew you were at heart!’

‘Hey, watch your mouth, Sweetheart, or this ‘grumpy old man’ won’t be paying for your dinner tonight. Plus, I’m not grumpy. Or old for that matter.'

‘I dunno, Dean; thirty is going to roll around real fast, and what are you going to have to show for it?’

‘I’m twenty-seven, you crazy red-head, which is only a year older than you, may I remind you, and I have plenty to show for myself,’ he huffed into his pint glass.

‘Oh, sweet, beautiful Dean… you trailed yourself and your life half way across the country so that you could make sure those boys of yours were okay. I’ll bet there’s still boxes lurking somewhere in your house unpacked because you were never quite sure how long you were going to settle here. Am I right, or am I right?’ she smirked.

‘You’re very annoying for someone so tiny, you know that, right?’

‘And that would be why you love me!’ she crowed and lunged over the table to press the wettest smack of a kiss into his cheek.

‘Well, aren’t you just charming?’ Dean resisted the urge to wipe away the residual slobber from her kiss; it would only give her the satisfaction of knowing that she’d won. Instead his eye was drawn to the left where his brother was apparently trying to manhandle Cas towards their table. Cas tried several times to roll his shoulders out of Sam’s grip, but his height disadvantage seemed to be enough to keep him secure. He abruptly stopped struggling when he noticed Dean’s gaze.

‘That Sam and Cas?’

‘Huh? Yeah. Yeah, that’s them.’ Dean’s shoulders squared in tension; the purpose of this evening had been to forget about his problems with Cas, not have him be hauled in front of him for another round of insults.

‘Interesting…’ Charlie’s jaw was cupped in her palm as she watched the boys approach.

‘What’s interesting?’ Dean knew he wasn’t going to like the answer long before he asked the question, but what was the point of trying to fend off misery at this juncture?

‘Cas. You never mentioned he was so… dreamy…’

Dean’s mouthful of beer promptly made a bid for freedom and ended up over he boots and damn it all, these were his favorite boots.

‘Excuse you?’ Dean spluttered, reaching for a handful of napkins to clear the debris from the tabletop.

‘What? Don’t look at me like that, you know he’s not my type, I just think you could have mentioned that he’s dreamy in one of the many Dean Winchester rants about Cas afternoon specials we’ve had,’ she said, as she took a smug pull from her drink.

  
Dean would have read her the riot act on several of those statements, but he was rudely interrupted by his brother dropping heavily onto the seat next to him while Cas took the one next to Charlie, with much more grace that Dean would have assumed the petulant little shit was capable of. Okay, maybe he wasn’t as over last night’s fight as he thought he was. He took the opportunity to study Cas’ injuries properly; they were nowhere near as bad as he’d feared last night. He had two soft bruises forming under his eyes, but they weren’t swollen or puffy. His nose retained its sharp angle in profile and only bore the slightest of cuts across the bridge. Admittedly the light in the bar was dim, but Cas cut a fairly impressive figure; the suit jacket he wore gave him the air of a disheveled confidence, more brooding action hero caught on his day off than startled victim. Clearly Dean had been looking far too long, as there was a lingering and uncomfortable pause before Dean’s baby brother did the noble thing and mumbled that he was off to get everyone drinks. Ass. Cas looked as if he might rise to follow Sam, but a large hand pressed his shoulder back into his seat.

  
‘Don’t worry about it, dude, I got you covered.’ And with that, he winked and disappeared into the steadily building crowd. Whatever Cas might have hissed in reply was lost when he turned his head to follow Sam.

  
Dean picked at the varnish on the table long enough for Charlie to clock him squarely in the shin with her foot beneath the table. His yelp caused Cas to turn around and assess the situation between Dean and Charlie. Finally his eyes rested on Dean as he tipped his head slightly, jaw set at a seriously pissed off angle.

  
Dean was about inform Cas in no uncertain terms that he was absolutely not open for any bullshit teenage angst tonight when Charlie, queen amongst mortals that she was, decided to resuscitate the conversation.

  
‘So… you’re Cas? Dean talks about you all the time.’ Harpy. He knew it was a mistake to trust anyone with a face that angelic and hair that red.

  
Cas turned his body fully towards Charlie, but his eyes never left Dean. ‘Well then,’ he practically purred at her, ‘you have me at a disadvantage; you know who I am, but I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure?’

  
Oh fuck Dean’s life. ‘Cas, this is Charlie; Charlie, this is Castiel, we call him Cas.’

  
‘It is an absolute pleasure to meet you,’ he said, taking the hand she had held out to shake and flipping it so he could kiss that back of it. Charlie’s face could barely contain her mirth as she looked up at Dean and coughed something that sounded suspiciously like ‘dreamy’.

  
‘Cas, would you stop embarrassing yourself? Charlie doesn’t want your sleaze all over her.’ Cas’ eyes flashed something indescribable for the briefest of moments before he schooled his expression and turned his full attention to Charlie. He patted the hand he still held.

  
‘You’ll have to forgive me, I was raised strictly, but neatly to believe that you should treat a lady with respect –‘ Again with that voice, it was like he was lowering it on purpose just to aggravate Dean as much as possible.

  
‘Charlie ain’t no lady, so you can quit pretending you’re in a Jane Austen novel, Cas. It’s creepy.’

  
Charlie’s death stare alone would have been enough to reduce him to silence, but coupled with Cas’ he was pretty damn lucky his tongue hadn’t turned to ash in his mouth.

  
‘Anyway,’ Cas continued, pointedly challenging Dean to interrupt him, ‘Tell me about yourself, Charlie.’

  
‘She’s a paramedic.’ Dean bit his tongue; once again the twin withering looks were enough to tell him that his contributions to the conversation were unwelcome. The two bowed their heads in closer together and continued their conversation sans Dean. He was on the verge of plotting an escape to the bathroom, or even more pitifully, checking his phone for messages, when Sam returned to the table with a collection of precariously balanced drinks.

  
‘Sammy!’ cried Dean, a little too loudly if the raised eyebrows from his tablemates were anything to go by. Sam being the wonderful brother than he was simply clapped Dean on the back and retook his seat.

  
‘So, who’s the girl?’ said Sam as he took a big gulp of his drink.

  
Dean would have made then necessary introductions, but he was loathed to interrupt the witches’ coven for a third time.  
‘That’s Charlie, I’m sure I’ve mentioned her before; we work together.’

  
‘Huh… Nope, not ringing any bells. You guys been dating long?’

  
Dean, for once in the last twenty-four hours, did not have a drink in his hand or mouth, which was actually sort of a shame as this time he would have had the pleasure of spraying his little brother in the face. As it was, he might have choked on his tongue a little.

  
‘Dude, where the hell did that come from?’

  
‘Well, I mean, you guys seem pretty close…’

  
‘Man, firstly, she’d kick my ass if I even suggested it and let me tell you, she has boney elbows and no concept of mercy. Honestly, she’s like the little sister I never wanted; not to mention that she’s really not interested in the male of the species unless she needs collateral damage from some mission.’ At Sam’s confounded look, he clarified, ‘Gamer.’

  
‘But,’ Sam began, like this really was the most difficult concept he’d had to wrap his tiny mind around, ‘you were kissing when we came in!’

  
‘Huh?’ Dean Winchester: eloquence personified.

  
‘When Cas and I first came into the bar, we saw you kissing!’

  
‘Oh please! That was not a kiss; that was her trying to lick my face like some overgrown puppy. It was a punishment for sassing her, apparently.’

  
Dean only noticed Sam had sat back in bewilderment when the conversation failed to continue.

  
‘You okay there, buddy? I hope you didn’t have any china patterns picked out?’ he’d meant it as a joke, but Sam barely seemed to register it.

  
‘So you’re not dating Charlie?’

  
‘No.’

  
‘Because she’s like your sister?’ Dean was a little dumbfounded at how much difficulty Sam seemed to be having processing this.

  
‘Well, I think the fact that she’s only attracted to women is a bigger stumbling block to our eternal love. I may be pretty, but I’m not that pretty,’ he joked. Still nothing, in fact, Sam now seemed to be watching Cas and Charlie with an acute interest.  
‘So, who are you dating?’ he ventured.

  
‘Sammy, what in the hell are you talking about? I haven’t dated anyone in years, not since…’

  
‘Not since Cas moved in with us, I know, but you’ve been gone a lot recently, and we thought – I thought,’ he stuttered, quickly side-eyeing Dean, before looking at the table, ‘I just assumed you’d met someone and didn’t want us to know yet.’

  
Dean watched his brother for a moment; clearly there was some huge part of the equation that he was missing, he was about continue when the conversation between Charlie and Cas suddenly became audible.

  
‘Tattoo! No! Where?’ If Dean didn’t know Charlie any better, he’d say she was gushing. Cas leaned in to whisper in Charlie’s ear, delicately moving a strand of hair from her face as he did so. Then the scene took a turn for the truly horrific.

  
‘You have to show me!’ she all but squealed, clutching his hand to her chest.

  
Cas took a moment to look up, acknowledged Sam with a smirk, then tipped a wink in Dean’s direction as he brought Charlie to her feet. ‘Of course, but not here; let’s go somewhere a little more… private.’ Then the smug little bastard swept away from the table with Charlie in tow. He even had the audacity to throw his arm over her shoulder, catching Dean’s eye for the briefest of seconds before evaporating into the crowd.

  
‘What the fuck did I just see?’ Dean had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he was reserving his right to be angry about it. Sam only seemed to be able to offer a series of vague noises.

  
‘Is it my imagination, or is Cas trying to flirt with Charlie?’ Dean might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he was a dab hand at making sense out of clues.

  
‘Um…’ Great contribution, Sammy: well played.

  
‘Charlie, who he thinks is my girlfriend?’ He could feel himself tipping ever closer to some epic revelation.

  
‘Well…’ Sam at least had upgraded to words now.

  
‘What the hell is going on? Is this about what I said last night? He’s going to make a habit of being the guy who goes for someone else’s chick just for the sake of being an asshole? Jesus, I underestimated just what a stubborn kid he is!’

  
‘Dean, Cas isn’t a kid any more, neither of us are!’ Sam’s voice was shrill with indignation and he backhanded Dean across the chest as if to cement the idea.

  
‘Oww!’ Dean rubbed his chest in indignation. ‘Seriously, what’s got your panties in such a twist?’

  
Sam huffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. ‘Dean, Cas and I are adults – we’re sitting in a bar with you, for Christ’s sake! I know you had a bum deal and had to play father figure to me, but you aren’t actually my dad…’ His voice had all but petered out by the end of his sentence. He watched Dean with trepidation, waiting for the fuse to light on his brother’s tempter. Dean Winchester was nothing if not predictable when it came to his bad habits.

  
‘Alright, now what the hell is going on? Because this is bullshit and you know it: first Cas and now you feel the need to remind me that I’m not your father. You think I don’t know that? You think I even wanted that?’ Dean could sense in his peripheral vision that they were drawing the attention of those seated around them, but paid absolutely no mind.

  
‘Dean, calm down…’

  
‘I am calm,’ he blustered, ‘What I’m not, is sure when you and Cas suddenly became such ungrateful little shitbags!'

  
Sam’s face set in disappointment. ‘This isn’t the time or place for this conversation.’

  
‘You think?’

  
‘Okay, okay.’ Sam swiftly abandoned his placating gesture when he caught Dean’s reaction to it. ‘But this is part of the problem, Dean –‘

  
‘I thought we weren’t talking about this?’ His jaw was clenched so tightly, he wondered if it would ever release properly.

  
‘No, clearly you and I have bigger issues that we need to deal with.’ His face was so earnest that Dean had to fight to keep his anger burning. ‘But we won’t ever be able to deal with this until you accept that I’m an adult. You’re not responsible for me any more, Dean; I’m sorry that for a long time you were, but going forward, we should all be equals. You. Me. Cas…’

  
Dean was entirely silent as he tried to force his brain out of the fight or flight emergency evacuation plans it so desperately wanted to commence.

  
‘Dean?’ Sam’s voice was tentative and full of concern; it wasn’t exactly doing wonders for Dean’s desire to punch him in the face. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

  
‘Dean?’

  
‘I hear you. I’m just not – y’know – talking right now.’

  
‘You’re not talking to me! Dean, of all the spectacularly ridiculous ways to deal with this situation, you actually think the silent treatment is the way to go?’

  
Dean was trying so, so very hard to maintain his cool. Sainthoods have been doled out for less.

  
‘I’m not ‘not-talking-to-you’, princess, I’m actually trying to talk myself out of giving you a black eye to match Cas’ shiner.’

  
‘Dean!’

  
‘Oh calm down, it was a joke.’ He met Sam’s eye and twitched his lips ever so slightly. Sam’s sigh of relief was audible half way across the bar.

  
‘But you admit you’re lying to me about something?’

  
‘Not lying, just withholding information temporarily.’

  
‘Why?’

  
‘It’s for the best, Dean.’

  
‘Who decided it was for the best?’

  
‘General consensus.’

  
‘Who is the ‘general’ that make up this consensus?’

  
‘Do I really have to answer that?’

  
‘I’m seriously pissed off right now, you know that Sammy?’

  
‘Yep.’

  
‘And you’re not going to do anything about that, are you?’

  
‘Nope.’

  
‘Well aint sharing and caring grand?’

  
‘That’s family for you…’ Sam’s voice had taken on a slightly wistful tone in contrast to the earlier tension.

  
‘Speaking of, where has our little stray kitten gone?’

  
‘Dean, please, what did we just talk about?’

  
‘You are far too easy,’ Dean’s grin was all boyish mirth. ‘I’m teasing; you know full well he’s like a brother to me!’ This last assurance didn’t quite garner the reaction Dean had expected. Sam’s face was a blur of pain, frustration and exasperation – it wasn’t exactly his most winning look, but his mumbled ‘thus the problem’ was almost entirely lost by the arrival of a spectacularly drunk Cas who was now clutching onto Charlie in something that was closer to a headlock.

 

 

‘Cas’ back in town!’ he beamed, but his smile was more manic than his usual, gentle offerings. The ones that Dean didn’t seem to be privy to any more. Sam stood to help Charlie wrestle off Cas and ended up supporting almost his entire weight.

  
‘What the hell happened?’ demanded Dean, ‘I’ve seen him drink bikers under the table; he’s had one beer! Did someone spike it?’ His felt a sense of clawing panic in the back of his throat, seemed to make his heartbeat echo in his inner ear again.

  
‘He’s not been spiked, I don’t think,’ giggled Charlie, and now that he had turned his attention to her, he noticed the ruddiness of her cheeks and the slight flux in her movements.

  
‘So?’ Treat everyone as an adult, his ass!

  
‘We had shots at the bar,’ she finally admitted, ‘Secret ones.’

  
‘You weren’t supposed to tell him!’ shrieked Cas.

  
‘I couldn’t help it!’ she whimpered, ‘He’s got this big, pretty eyes that just catch you in their tractor-beam and Jedi Mind Trick you…’ She reached out a hand as if to stroke Dean’s face, but he batted it away, it didn’t seem to faze her though, she turned to Cas instead. ‘You have pretty eyes too, though.’ She and Cas shared twin manic grins, Dean felt his stomach rolling; he was not in the mood to be dealing with this fuckery.

  
‘Dean, I think we should take them home…’ For once, Dean was entirely in agreement with Sam.

  
‘Oh no! I have a date, I have to go meet him at the bar.’ Cas tried and failed to point in the direction of the bar.

  
‘Sorry, Sunshine, you’re going to have to rain-check that little venture.’ Dean was back to being royally pissed off and he couldn’t give a fuck if he was being a dick and cockblocking Cas right now. In fact, he would take great pleasure in doing so.  
‘But he had such pretty green eyes…’ moaned Cas.

  
‘Life’s a cruel mistress. Now come on, I’m taking everyone’s drunk ass home.’ Dean gestured for everyone to get up, Sam tried to move Cas, but he became a petulant dead weight in his arms.

  
‘A little help, Dean?’ And of course now would be the time everyone wanted him to be the parent; we’re all adults his ass.  
Dean walked as far into Cas’ personal space as he could and bent his head so that they were making eye contact. ‘You walk out of here right now, or I’m carrying you out,’ he threatened.

  
Cas turned his head further into Sam’s shoulder and mumbled something that gave no clear indication of his intent, so Dean did what any sane and rational person would do: he hoisted Cas over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and made for the exit.


	3. Slave to an Age Old Trade

Cas was incandescent with rage by the time they got to the Impala. The cold air seemed to have slapped some sobriety into him, but Dean still took a moment to wish him the mother of all hangovers tomorrow as he unceremoniously dumped him on the tarmac. His muscles were screaming their own mutinous fury at him; Cas was by no means the skinny little runt he was when he first came to live with them. He was nothing but muscle, not bulky like Dean’s own physique, but absolutely solid. If he hadn’t been concentrating on not dropping him headfirst on the concrete outside the bar, he might have taken a moment to appreciate the muscles of Cas’ legs; long and lean, giving nothing under Dean’s vice-like grip.

  
‘Go to hell, Dean!’

  
‘Nice talk, Cas, you coming with?’

  
Cas’ anger was practically seeping into the atmosphere. ‘You should show me some respect,’ he hissed.

  
‘You know what? Blow me, Cas! What have you done to earn my respect lately? You stomp around the house like you’re on some holy mission, or you’re gone for these ridiculous stretches of time and I have absolutely no idea who you’re with! That hellcat, Meg?’

  
‘You leave her out of this! She’s a friend.’

  
‘Some friend; I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her!’ Dean’s volume was matching Cas’ decibel for decibel. He ignored Cas’ attempt to defend Meg further and forged ahead. ‘You’re lying to me; I can feel it! What’s the matter, Cas? You got your inheritance and realized you were better than trash like me? Were you just waiting for the moment you could move on and forget the Winchesters ever happened to you?’ It wasn’t a fear he’d ever consciously acknowledged, but now that he’d said it, or screamed it as the case may be, Dean felt the truth of his own words.

  
‘Me forget you! You don’t know a single thing about me, Dean. I know how you see me; I’m a burden to you, Dean, you’ve always made that perfectly clear, nothing more than a child.’ Cas repeated his name with as much venom as he could force into the single syllable, He had pushed right up into Dean’s face pointing his finger dangerously and provocatively; there was just the barest of inches between their heights now, and Cas’ wrath made him a beautifully terrifying sight.

  
‘Cas, you absolute dick, you’re like family to me! A brother in everything but blood –‘

Dean was rudely cut off from his professions of solidarity by Cas’ damn near primal scream of rage.

Then he did the last thing Dean expected; quite possibly the least brotherly thing he could imagine: he grabbed Dean viciously by the collar of his jacket, Dean tensed expecting a head-butt, but instead, Cas pressed their lips together with as much force and fury as he could manage. It lasted mere seconds but the noise his lips made as he pulled them away from Dean’s echoed out into the darkness.

  
Dean was motionless, brain trying to ascertain how they had gone from screaming in each other’s faces one minute, to, well, that.

The lack on noise stretched out infinitely, much longer than the kiss itself, and yet Dean failed to move or acknowledge any coherent thoughts. He stared at Cas who stared back with a ferocity that warned Dean that if he had the power to smite him, he would be a smudge on the floor by now. He was breathing heavily through flared nostrils as if he’d just fought some epic battle for freedom. Perhaps he just had. His eyes narrowed, squinting at Dean; weighing his response, or lack thereof.

Eventually a scuffing of boots on the gravel revived Dean’s power of speech, but only just.

  
‘Cas?’ Hardly even a whisper, barely worth uttering. Cas gave him a full minute to continue before turning on his heel and walking away. He paused only briefly as he passed Sam and Charlie, whom Dean hadn’t even realized were standing a respectful distance back. Cas stood with his back to Dean muttered something entirely inaudible into Sam’s ear, then turned his head fractionally as if to look back over his shoulder at the bewildered man he’d left standing in the car park.

 

Another pause, another opportunity wasted, then he clapped Sam on the arm, nodded his head towards Charlie and left without further acknowledgement of Dean.

  
Cas had almost been swallowed up by the darkness when Dean finally found his voice.

  
‘Cas!’ he bellowed, neighbors in the area be damned. His feet decided to join in on the excitement and before he realized it, he was running after Cas, shouting his name as loudly as he could. The effort appeared to be all too little too late: Cas didn’t turn round and the Dean found his progress seriously hindered by his brother who had grabbed his arm as he passed. He struggled against the hold in vain.

  
‘Let him go, dude.’ Soft tone that Dean didn’t really understand the meaning of.

  
‘But – but – he just kissed me!’ The words sounded foreign on his tongue and as Dean’s disorientated brain continued the fight for logic, he allowed Sam to catch his weary body.

  
‘We know: we saw.’

  
‘But how could that happen?’ He wanted to ghost his fingers over his lips, as if that would prove it really happened, but it felt too private, too intimate to do in front of his brother and friend.

  
‘Oh Dean…’ Charlie now, same careful tone of voice as Sam, perhaps laced with a bit of pity? Why? What the hell had just happened?

  
‘Shouldn’t I go after him?’ The words were empty; Dean knew full well that he wasn’t in any fit state to go chasing down Cas at this point in time. Hell, three minutes ago he’d been prepared for their altercation to turn violent, now he felt as though he’d had his entire perspective on the world knocked out of alignment.

  
‘I’d leave him if I were you, give him a chance to own what just happened.’

 

And wasn’t that the damnedest thing; Charlie was weighing in on Cas’ emotions. Dean’s emotional overload was looking for a suitable conduit and here was Charlie… Charlie who’d known Cas all of five minutes was offering Dean advice on how to deal with the kid he’d grown up with; hell, he’d damn near raised him… And in that terrible moment, a thousand tiny pieces slotted into place; Cas’ unexplained bouts of frustrations he could feel echoed in his own conflicted emotions; the volatile reactions every time Dean reassured them of their fraternal bond; the desire to be seen as an adult…

  
‘Oh fuck… I did not see that one coming…’ He dragged his fingers roughly through his stubble, feeling the skin prickle where he pushed it against the grain.

  
‘Really, Dean?' Sam seemed to be conflicted about whether or not he should hold Dean tighter or release him altogether.

  
‘What do you mean, ‘really’?’ Frustration and anger seemed to be the easiest emotions to channel; it would explain the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, wouldn’t it? ‘Kid was drunk, probably had no idea what he was doing.’ Dean felt his pulse quicken and his digestive organs summersault at his own words; he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this out of control. He turned out of Sam’s grasp and took a few steps in the direction Cas has retreated in.

  
‘Dean…’ A hand on his shoulder sparked him into action.

  
‘What, Sammy? What do you want from me right now?’ He whipped around to face his brother, but instead had to drop his eyes a good foot to meet Charlie’s gaze.

  
‘Perhaps we should head home?’ her voice was tentative, as if she was worried that he would strike out at her; it was that horrific revelation more than anything else that brought Dean back to his rational mind.

  
‘Yeah. Yeah, okay,’ he said, turning one last time to see if there was any glimmer of Cas in the distance, but he was evidently long gone.

 

 

 

Dean sat heavily on the edge of his bed; he had thought that the drive home would have cleared his head somewhat, but he felt nothing but numb about the events of the evening, as if they’d happened in front of him, but not to him. There was a white noise buzzing at the back of his mind making it difficult to concentrate on anything in particular. He fell back on to the bed and pushed his thumbs into the corner of his eyes in an attempt to find clarity.

  
‘How you feelin’?’ The bed dipped under Charlie’s weight.

  
‘I know I invited you to stay over, but that doesn’t mean we’re having a damn slumber party,’ he muttered without opening his eyes.

  
‘Oh sure it does!’ she said brightly, slapping his thigh for attention. ‘You need a serious game plan and I happen to be the best at tactics. Why do you think I kick your ass every time we play Black Flag? I only keep you around because you have such pitiful trash talk; got to amuse myself somehow.’

  
‘Hey now!’ he said, sitting up and turning to point a finger in her face, ‘There is absolutely nothing wrong with my strategies or my trash talk, thank you very much!’

  
Charlie smiled and grabbed his finger in her fist. ‘Nice to have you back, Dean; you were awful quiet on the journey home, I thought you’d broken something vital,’ she teased, but there was no spite in her words.

  
‘You play dirty, Red, anyone ever tell you that?’ He smiled despite himself.

  
‘Please,’ she smiled, ‘you left yourself wide open for that one.’ There was a pause where she looked at him expectantly.

  
‘Oh come on, don’t make me talk about my feelings… I’m begging you; let it go.’

  
‘Dean Winchester, you can not bury your head in the sand over this!’ She pinched him viciously in the ribs.

  
‘Ow! Alright, harpy! No need to break out the talons. I’m just not sure what you want me to say? The kid was drunk or trying to get a rise out of me; he’s been doing his damnedest to antagonize me for the past few months, why should this be any different?’

  
Charlie huffed in obvious irritation and slapped him on the back of the head. ‘Wrong answer. Care to guess again?’

  
‘Depends on whether or not you’re planning to hit me again, doesn’t it?’ he muttered, edging further away from her on the bed and trying to surreptitiously rub where she’s struck him.

  
‘Dean,’ she emphasized his name like she thought his stupidity might be catching. ‘Cas wasn’t trying to antagonize you, and he may have been drunk, but I suspect that was more Dutch courage than anything else…’

  
‘Huh?’

  
‘God, it’s good thing you’re pretty, Winchester,’ she muttered in disgust. ‘Castiel is in love with you, I’m really not sure how much clearer he could have been.’ She sighed in exasperation and flopped backwards onto the bed like some sort of wilted damsel. Dean turned to stare at her, but she’d closed her eyes, her face a mask of serenity to counter Dean’s.

  
‘But the arguments…’ Dean faltered trying to understand where all this information was coming from.

  
‘Yes, how about those arguments?’ She leaned up on an elbow to glare at Dean. ‘Suspicious timing, don’t you think? Just when Cas comes of age and you’re no longer obligated to be in his life, so he starts testing your boundaries. I wonder what that could be a sign of?’ she finished sarcastically and threw herself down onto the bed again.

  
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  
‘Hey.’ Sam appeared in the doorway, unsure if he should cross the threshold of his brother’s room.

  
‘Sam, tell your brother Cas is in love with him.’ Charlie didn’t open her eyes, but she flailed her arm in Dean’s general direction, making some sort of obscure ‘carry on’ gesture.

  
‘I… Umm… Well…’ Sam squirmed uneasily in the doorway.

  
‘See!’ Dean poked Charlie’s ribs in triumph. ‘Told you he was trying to antagonize me!’

  
‘Oh for God’s sake, Dean!’ burst Sam. ‘Of course he’s in love with you, has been since we were about seventeen, that I know of. How are we related?’ He collapsed on to the bed next to Charlie in a suitably dramatic fashion. She reached out to pat his hand in a reassuring gesture, as if consoling him for having to endure Dean as a brother.

  
‘But I – he… but…’ Dean gaped at both of the bodies on his bed; neither was looking at him. ‘But he’s just a kid…’ There was little truth in Dean’s words and he knew it. ‘Fuck.’

  
‘I believe that should be your plan, yes,’ smirked Charlie, still lying on the bed, she cracked one eye and arched her eyebrow at him lewdly.

  
‘Charlie! Sam’s right there!’ Dean’s voice was little more than a squeak.

  
‘I’m in favor of this plan, if that’s any help.’ Sam stretched his arm straight in the air as if his vote was being counted.

  
‘Are you two perverts genuinely trying to get me to date my adopted kid brother?’

  
‘Well, technically, you didn’t adopt him, so there are no questionable legal issues and I think you’ll find that we suggested you sleep with him, but I suppose dating would be a good place to start, don’t you think, Sam?’

  
‘Yep. Sounds perfect.’

  
Apparently the gravity of the situation had not filtered through to anyone else in the room; Dean failed to comprehend how his nearest and dearest could make jokes at a time like this! The world was spinning far too fast for Dean to hold on to.

  
‘Are we forgetting that I’m Cas’ guardian? Not to mention the utter hell we went through to get him away from those relatives of his? They were trying to bleed him dry!’ Dean’s voice had taken on a tone of hysteria now. ‘I – We had to fight tooth and nail to find where they’d carted him off to – Sammy, you remember the scars he turned up with! How broken and insecure he was. I –‘ He paused his pacing of the room and looked at his brother and friend in anguish. ‘All the stuff he’s been through, and we fought so hard together… He’s confused. I treated him like family and I bet he has no other basis for family than this… Yeah… Yeah! No wonder he’s confused.’ His tone of voice has taken on a terrible clarity as he worked his way through his theory.

  
‘Dean, you’re my brother and I love you, but you are so full of shit.’ Sam had moved himself into a sitting position and was glaring at Dean. ‘You might have been Cas’ legal guardian, but that was a technicality - you were just another name on a document to ensure Cas’ cousins kept their grubby hands off his money. He was eighteen when he moved in, not some impressionable child, so you can get that player off the field straight away.'

  
‘Sam, come on, he’s like –‘

  
‘I swear, if you finish that sentence with ‘like a brother to me’ I will slap you silly!’

  
‘I’d like to see you try…’ mumbled Dean, scuffing his foot into the carpet.

  
‘Dean, as your brother, I’d like to point out that the way you treat Cas is absolutely nothing like the way you treat me…’

  
‘Sam –‘

  
‘There’s the long looks, and I mean long,’ he teased the word out for emphasis, ‘Like seriously, I sometimes wonder if you’re having some weird telepathic conversation or something. Then there’s the touching –‘

  
‘I never touched him!’ This was more to Charlie than Sam.

  
‘Now who’s the pervert?’ she teased.

  
‘Not like that, I just mean that you two touch. A lot. It’s like you’ll find an excuse to put your hands on each other’s shoulders or whatever.’

  
‘Oh God,’ Dean groaned into his hands.

  
‘And most of all, Dean, he left his family for you…’

  
‘Hey, now don’t say that, they were dicks to him! He left of his own free will –‘

  
‘I know, Dean, I know.’ Sam made a soothing gesture with his hands. ‘But you’re the only one who could convince him to do it. I’d been trying for years, but you’re the one who gave him the strength and encouragement to finally walk away. All he’s ever wanted was to be good enough in your eyes.’ He picked the comforter nervously, as if he wasn’t sure he should reveal what he was about to say. ‘That’s what last night was about; he was trying to do what he thought you would do.’

  
‘I would not hit on someone else’s girl!’ At Sam’s raised eyebrow he clarified. ‘Well, not once I knew they were with someone else!’

  
‘Dean, Cas was trying to protect the girl; this guy was getting too handsy and she didn’t like it. When he wouldn’t stop, Cas stepped in and took the guy out.’ Sam smiled incongruously at the memory. ‘It was pretty badass, Dean. You would have been proud. You also would have caught the guy’s friend before he took the cheap shot at Cas after his lump of a friend went down - I was just a bit too late.’ He paused to rub his thumb over his still bruised knuckles.

  
‘This is insane.’ Dean dropped heavily on to the bed, trying to process all this new information was making his head spin.

‘What now?’ He looked from Sam to Charlie with such earnestness that neither could find it in their hearts to torment him.

  
‘Well…’ Charlie began, toying with her fingers and avoiding his eyes, ‘I guess you have to ask yourself if you can ever see him as anything more than a little brother?’

  
‘Huh. Well isn’t that the million dollar question.’ He eyed her suspiciously. ‘Hey, how come you’re suddenly Team Cas? Wasn’t he the guy trying to get into your pants a couple of hours ago?’

  
‘Please,’ she snorted and stood to press a kiss into his cheek. ‘He was using my pants to try to get into yours.’ Her smile was genuine as she walked to the door. ‘Sweet dreams, Winchester!’

  
Dean chuckled despite the absurdity of the situation. ‘So Sammy, you going to weigh in some more?’

  
Sam smiled and stood to follow Charlie. ‘He’s staying with Crowley –‘ At Dean’s eye roll he pushed ahead. ‘He’s actually a fairly decent guy, Dean. Ever thought about why you dislike all of Cas’ friends?’ Dean remained tight lipped. ‘So it’s nothing to do with the fact that they flirt with Cas in front of you, and stay out late with him?’ Dean stubbornly refused to be drawn into this line of questioning. ‘Look Dean, all I’m saying is maybe you should get your head together and then go see him. I think you should at least be open to hearing him out.’

  
‘Me hear him out! He’s the one who walked away from me!’

  
‘Dean, don’t be petty.’

  
‘I’ll show you petty,’ he huffed and threw himself further on to the bed. Sam was turning to go when he heard Dean’s muffled words.

  
‘What was that?’ he asked as he turned back into the room.

  
‘This will change everything, Sam,’ Dean warned. ‘Whether we end up working out or not, nothing will ever be the same after tonight.’ His voice was full an anxiety that Sam had rarely heard. He let Dean’s words hang thickly in the quiet of the room.

  
‘Just because it’s scary doesn’t mean you shouldn’t at least try.’ Sam’s smile was so warm that Dean couldn’t help mirroring it. He turned to go when Dean called him back one more time.

  
‘Was this what you were lying to me about?’

  
‘Just withholding information temporarily.’ He smiled and when his brother made no moves to continue their conversation, he actually left the room this time. For better or worse, at least this would be over soon.


	4. Wake Me Up When I'm Older and Wiser

Dean slept poorly, which was probably to be expected. He found his dreams blurring with memories; scenarios played out from different angles, memories shifted in light of this new information. He was able to pinpoint the moment in the recent past when Cas’ temper flared and an argument sparked between them; unsurprisingly each was a direct result of Dean teasing Cas for his youth or inexperience. He felt like he was walking on eggshells even in his own memories, how would he ever be able to navigate an entire conversation with Cas when so much was on the line? His conviction wavered multiple times during the night, but ultimately, it was the sight of Cas’ cold and empty bedroom that spurred him into action. The door had been left ajar when Cas had stormed out two days ago, and the hollowness seemed to resonate with something within Dean. He hastily scribbled a note to Sam instructing him to feed Charlie and left.

 

 

He had only driven to Crowley’s town house once before, but the journey was ingrained as much because of Dean’s outrage that one of Cas’ peers could afford a place like this, as it was due to his dislike of the creature that opened the door to him. Crowley was all condescending smirks and theatrical eyebrows; for some obscure reason he was standing in the doorway as Dean pulled up outside the building.

  
‘I could hear that beast of yours coming a mile away, Cupcake. Hope you weren’t planning a sneak attack?’ He smirked and Dean could feel his shoulders tense as he exited the Impala and walked up the steps to greet Crowley. He waited until he was on the same level, thus towering over Crowley, to speak.

  
‘Cas here?’ He deliberately tried to avoid rising to the bait that was being dangled in front of him. Dean had come on a peacekeeping mission, and he seriously doubted punching Crowley would be viewed in a favorable manner.

  
Crowley’s eyes darkened with pleasure. ‘Oh yes, perfect timing. He’s in the guest room; first left at the top of the stairs.’ He gestured with a hand then replaced it in the coat Dean had only just realized he was wearing. ‘Go straight in, I’m sure he’s expecting you.’

  
Dean made a move to pass Crowley, but was stopped when the slimy British bastard put a hand to his upper arm, he leaned into Dean’s personal space. ‘Don’t touch anything you can’t afford, alright, Freckles?’ And with that, smacked Dean’s butt causing him to jump forward slightly over the threshold before he smugly closed the door on Dean’s curse.

 

 

Pulling himself together, Dean physically shook himself and took the steps to Cas’ temporary room two at a time.

Begrudgingly heeding Crowley’s words and fearing Cas might not let him in if he announced himself, Dean opened the door and barreled straight into the room.

  
‘Hey Cas, look I –‘ His words died on his lips as he took in the sight before him. Cas, who had now turned to face him with a gaping expression, was wearing nothing but a towel. He was clearly just out of the shower; covered in beads of liquid. He coughed and hurried to secure the low-slung material to his beautifully prominent hips.

  
‘Oh shit…’ Was all that Dean could offer by way of greeting, while Cas’ expression had morphed from shocked to seriously irritated.

Dean’s eyes decided to abandon his morality and tracked a very blatant line down Cas’ collar bone; visible, but not in an alarming way, more like they were doing an excellent job of accentuating his toned arms and chest. Dean caught a barely there quiver in Cas’ pecs as he clenched the muscles in his chest. Dean couldn’t tell if the movement was deliberate or not, but it certainly eliminated all arguments about Cas being just a kid.

The man in question shifted his body under the weight of Dean’s blatant scrutiny. Dean’s eye was then drawn to a rather large tattoo that covered a substantial potion of Cas’ left abdomen. The script looked elaborate and exquisitely done, although Dean could see little of the fine detail from this distance.

  
His eyes flicked to meet Cas’. ‘You have a tattoo.’ Apparently Dean would not be addressing the main issues straight on at this juncture.

  
Cas huffed and rolled his eye before turning his back on Dean in search of clothing, which is something Dean realized that he inexplicably didn’t want. Oh shit. Apparently his feelings for Cas weren’t quite as brotherly as he’d realized. Despite living in the same house, Dean couldn’t really remember the last time he’d seen Cas shirtless, much less all but naked. Definitely not since adulthood had filled out his muscle structure. Dean licked his lips self-consciously; thankfully, Cas’ back was still turned as he pulled clothing out of a bag.

  
‘Look Cas,’ Dean began, but his fumbled opening was halted by Cas turning around and raising a hand in his face.

  
‘I’m not planning on speaking to you while I’m naked, Dean.’ Dean swallowed thickly and may or may not have imagined a slight narrowing of Cas’ eyes at the audible click of his throat.

  
‘I, uh –‘

  
Cas arched an eyebrow at his eloquence, bizarrely the bruising under his eyes made it look like he was wearing eyeliner. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Interesting.

  
‘Either leave or at least have the decency to turn around.’

  
Dean flushed scarlet and spun on his heel. ‘Sorry, I – uh –‘ Spectacular job, Winchester, he was a twenty-seven year old EMT for Christ’s sake, he has seen enough bodies, both professionally and recreationally to mean that he should not have been sweating like a nun in a whorehouse. He heard the dull thud of Cas’ towel as it fell to the floor; he breathed in deeply and thought he caught a faint hint of Cas’ aftershave, or perhaps it was shower gel; either way, it was slightly intoxicating.

 

 

Finally, to his equal relief and disappointment, he heard the sound of coarse material, jeans he’d guess, being dragged across skin. He sighed deeply and a great deal more audibly that he would have liked. He thought he could hear Cas chuckle, but it was lost in the zip of his duffle bag.

  
‘Alright, you can turn round,’ Cas’ voice seemed to take on much more authority than Dean remembered. Tentatively, Dean turned to look over his shoulder before bringing the rest of his body around to match.

Cas wasn’t quite dressed, but the moment he took to pull on a t-shirt gave Dean precious seconds to inspect the tanned, muscled, but sadly disappearing torso again. Cas pulled his head through the hole in his t-shirt before ruffling his hair to redistribute the wetness.

As he watched Cas push the moisture back from his face, Dean was struck by the sudden and very real knowledge that he had just been royally played. Crowley knew Cas had just got out of the shower and had sent Dean straight up to witness this little reverse striptease. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or humiliated.

 

 

 

  
‘Well, fuck me,’ he breathed, lacing his finger together on the crown of his head.

  
‘Excuse me?’ Cas’ eyebrows had taken up incredulous residence just south of his hairline.

  
‘Nothing, just questioning my life choices,’ chuckled Dean.

  
Cas narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion. He waited for him to continue, but Dean seemed content to just watch Castiel. He tried to wait it out, but eventually he flexed his shoulders and turned his back on Dean.

  
‘Not that it isn’t a real pleasure to see you again, Dean, but why are you here?’ His spine was screaming with tension as he waited for the answer, but there was only silence. Eventually, he turned his head over his shoulder to check Dean was still in the room. A small smile was flickering at the edge of his perfect mouth; Cas flushed and turned away from Dean, against his will, a small smile crept into his own face.

  
‘I can see you in the mirror, you know?’ Cas immediately schooled his expression, but it was probably far too late for that.

  
‘So I was thinking,’ continued Dean, ‘since you’re all dressed and ready to go, how about we go get some breakfast?’ Cas met Dean’s eye in the reflection of the mirror.

  
‘Breakfast?’ Despite his best efforts, there was a disappointment curling in his stomach; he’d been imagining Dean bursting into Crowley’s house and begging Cas to return. He knew it was melodramatic and far too painfully indulgent to ever voice aloud, but this was all too heartbreakingly close to their regular routine; if Sam were here, it would be just like any other Sunday morning and Cas had risked everything to break the status quo of their lives.

  
‘C’mon Cas.’ He could see Dean’s reflection edging closer to him, he sighed and turned, not quite able to meet Dean’s gaze. He shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence and moved to leave the room. As he did, Dean caught the fingers of his left hand loosely in his own.

  
‘Don’t be like that, Cas.’ He toyed with the fingers gently, ‘You kinda sprung this whole thing on me last night…’ Cas huffed and made a move to pull his hand away, but Dean tightened his grip. ‘All I’m saying is that you’ve had a bit longer to get used to the idea of this than me.’

Cas’ head tilted in momentary confusion, then his eyes widened in understanding.

 

‘Motherfucker; Sam, the little shit!’ He tried to hide his face in his hands in embarrassment, but ended up having to use Dean’s as well when he wouldn’t release his hold.

  
‘Oh c’mon, Cas,’ Dean teased, and for the first time in an age, he felt overwhelmingly happy to be in Cas’ presence.

  
‘Easy for you to say, you didn’t have all your secrets revealed at a slumber party you didn’t even attend!’ Cas’ words were frustrated, but there was a playfulness to them that Dean didn’t know he’d missed until it came thundering back.

  
‘It definitely wasn’t a slumber party: no movies, no pillow fights and Charlie and Sam didn’t even braid each other’s hair…’

  
‘Charlie was there!’ Cas’ screech was nothing short of adorable.

  
‘Did you or did you not invite her into this little soap opera last night?’ Dean questioned as he tugged Cas down the stairs and out of the house to the car.

 

 

 

  
‘I thought she was your date, I was trying to ingratiate myself…’ he muttered.

  
‘You mean get in her pants?’ Dean knew their truce was probably far too tentative for this level of teasing, but it felt liberating to not have to choose his words so carefully in order to avoid Cas’ pricklier side.

  
‘I watched you two; you were all over each other,’ he said over the top the Impala. ‘I figured I’d keep my friends close and my enemies closer…’

 

He moved to sit in the passenger seat of the car he had begun to love almost as much as it’s owner.

 

‘Well then, you get no sympathy from me; you invited her into this, Sweetheart!’

He sat down beside Cas and slapped him on the thigh, before rubbing the sting away. He had intended the action to be jovial and only belatedly realized that the combination of the pet name and intimate physical contact were having a distinct effect on both their anatomies. He blushed furiously in tandem with his quickened heartbeat and withdrew his hand in a jerk of his elbow.

  
‘Well,’ he coughed and moved to start the car’s ignition, ‘The point is, Charlie is part of your life now; there’s no getting rid of her once you invite her in.’

  
‘Charlie’s a vampire?’

  
‘Lesbian, Smartass, which just goes to show how woeful your gaydar is.’ Dean chanced his eyes off the road to smile at Cas, who hummed his assent before reaching to turn on the radio.

  
‘Taking some liberties there, Cas,’ Dean’s eyes were back on the road, but he could see Cas out of his peripheral vision.

  
‘Fair’s fair,’ he shrugged in a terribly nonchalant manner, ‘I figure you got to see me naked, I get to pick the music.’

  
Dean had to try very hard to make the car stay on the right side of the road but couldn’t avoid a sharp swerve. ‘Pothole,’ he mumbled, ears burning. ‘And you weren’t naked.’

  
‘Hmmm…’ said Cas, changing the station completely unhindered. ‘What’s a tiny little towel between friends,’ he smirked.

  
Dean side-eyed his passenger and noticed that while there was still a modicum of tension in the curve of his spine, Cas looked for all the world like he belonged right here, in this moment. Which Dean supposed he really did; he was the one who had brought them to this precipice, it was all down to Dean whether or not he jumped.

 

 

The silence was comfortable in a way that he hadn’t anticipated; he’d been ready to have to forcibly repress the squeamishness that he should have felt at crossing this line was Cas, but there was no sense of wrongness apparent. Dean still wasn’t sure that this bravado would be long lived; it’s not like they’d had any sexual contact since their brief kiss last night, but Dean didn’t feel a sense of dread at the prospect. Definitely not a brotherly type of affection then.

  
His smile must have caught Cas’ attention, ‘What are you smirking at?’ There was a lightness to his voice that sparked a sense of anticipation in Dean’s gut.

  
‘Just enjoying the fact that we’ve spent a whole five minutes in an enclosed space and no-one’s tried to rip anyone’s head off.’ He smiled at Cas again, just to temper his words in case they had the adverse effect. ‘Yet.’

  
‘You’re an asshole,’ rumbled Cas, turning his head to look out the window, but there was a smile toying at the edge of his mouth that his mock fury couldn’t quite hide. ‘Where are we going anyway? I’m hungry.’

  
‘Hush up, we’re here.’

 

 

If Cas had been expecting Dean to drag him to their usual greasy diner, he hoped the younger man would be slightly impressed by the crisp, clean café he pulled up at. He’d always meant to come to this place, but never quite found the occasion: tentative new beginnings between old friends seemed an apt excuse. As he made his way around the car to walk in with Cas, he felt the other man brush his hand ever so slightly; tips of his fingers grazing down Dean’s palm. The movement sent a little burst of electricity through Dean, so he did the only thing he could think of and gripped Cas’ hand tightly in his own as he pushed into the café and headed straight through to the sheltered seating area outside.

 

 

 

 

Breakfast may have been a quiet affair, but it was full of warmth; Dean had almost forgotten Cas could be so light and he was positively beautiful in the sunlight. He watched with rapt attention as Cas moved to wipe away a tiny bead of coffee that had escaped his mouth; fingers grating across his stubble. He stretched lithely and enthusiastically as their debris was cleared away, Dean couldn’t see it for the table obscuring his view, but it was no hardship to imagine the strip of flesh that would be exposed by such a gesture.

Yep, definitely attracted to Cas, but he still felt a prickle of fear at the weight of the situation, it was far too tentative and new to risk ruining with his standard attitude to dating. Dean also had a sneaking suspicion that Cas might actually be 'it' for him. If this was headed where he thought it would, then he was going to have to commit to something much bigger than just sex and occasional dating. If they ever broke up, that would be the end of their little family. Sam would never forgive him for hurting Cas, so he had to be absolutely sure this was the right way to go before jumping in with both feet. He must have zoned out somewhat at this revelation, because it took Cas touching his hand across the table to bring his attention back to the here and now.

 

‘Dean? Do you want to get out of here?’ There was a blatant invitation in Cas’ tone that shocked Dean into saying the first stupid thing that was rolling around in his overworked brain.

  
‘I can’t have sex with you, Cas!’ He voice was far too loud and attracted the eyes of the people at the tables around them.

Cas’ eyes grew wide with hurt, and then narrowed sharply in anger; he moved to pull away his hand, but for once Dean was faster and gripped his wrist fiercely in both hands.

  
‘Let me go,’ his voice was little more than a venom-laced hiss.

  
‘No, Cas, that’s not what I meant. Just listen to me –‘ Dean frantically attempted to backpedal the conversation on to safer grounds.

  
‘No, you listen to me, Dean.’ He pulled Dean closer to the table’s edge in his attempt to release his wrist, which Dean was surely bruising with the ferocity of his grip. ‘I’ve seen you sleep with men and women you didn’t even know the name of, if I’m so repulsive to you that you can’t even contemplate sex with me, why have we just endured this charade of date for the last two hours?’ His voice was pitched so low that Dean might have struggled to hear him had he not been acutely tuned into every word spilling from Cas’ perfect mouth.

  
‘Will you give me a chance, please?’ Dean was begging, and he didn’t even care that the couple at the table to his right looked to be on the verge of interfering. ‘Cas, please?’ Cas still fumed opposite him, but he at least stopped trying to pull his wrist away. Encouraged, Dean moved his grasp to encase Cas’ palm in both of his. ‘Cas –‘ he began, and then faltered, he looked up into Cas’ face, but his eyes were a cold blue that he had never seen before. ‘Cas, I just think we should go slow with this.’  
Cas scoffed again, clearly displeased.

  
‘No, listen, I need you to understand: I know I keep telling you that you’re like family and it makes you mad.’ Cas’ blatant eye roll only confirmed Dean’s assertion. ‘But Cas, you gotta understand; I can’t not have you in my life.’ He squeezed his palms together in what he hoped was reassuring pressure on Cas’ own hand. ‘I just need to be sure that this is going to work out; there’s no going back once we start something here, you know that, don’t you?’ Cas nodded grudgingly. ‘And sex is definitely going to be a major step down the road of no-return,’ he pressed on over Cas’ attempted interruption. ‘I know I’ve been with a lot of people and it hasn’t meant all that much, and I’m sorry if that hurt you in the past.’

  
‘It’s just sex, Dean.’ The blue in Cas’ eyes was warming ever so slightly.

  
‘Are you telling me this feels the same to you as it did with Meg, or what’s-his-name?’ If Dean’s nerves hadn’t been stretched as tautly as they were, he might have taken a moment to appreciate that Cas hadn’t refuted his assumptions, which gave him a legitimate reason to dislike Meg at the very least.

  
‘No… I suppose not…’

  
‘I’m not saying ‘no’, I’m just asking if we can wait awhile?’

  
‘How long is ‘awhile’?’ Cas pursed his lips in distaste around the word.

  
‘Couple of months?’

  
Cas’ eyes went comically wide and with that, he thumped his head on the table, clattering the remaining silverware as his did so. For a long and uncomfortable moment, neither of them said anything, but eventually Cas broke the silence.

  
‘Fine,’ he muttered before his shoulders began to shake.

  
‘Cas?’ Dean still had a hold of his hand, but genuinely had no idea what was happening. ‘Cas? Talk to me!’ It wasn’t until Cas’ laugher broke the tension that Dean released his hand and came to crouch by his chair in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Cas’ face.

  
‘What are you laughing at?’ he coaxed.

  
‘You,’ Cas giggled hysterically.

  
‘Me? What? I just laid my heart on the line and you’re laughing?’ Dean was doing his best to keep his temper; he wasn’t a fan of being laughed at at the best of times, and this felt like he had been caught with his pants down.

  
‘It’s just…’ Cas took a deep breath in an attempt to control himself, and rolled his head to the side so that he was still leaning on the table, but able to look Dean dead in the eye. ‘It’s just that I’ve realized how important I must be if Dean Winchester is willing to put his dick on ice for me!’ At Dean’s scandalized look, Cas burst into a fit of giggles.

  
‘You’re an asshole, Cas. Anyone every tell you that?’ His voice was tinged with something he couldn’t quite put his finger on just yet.

  
‘Yep,’ smirked Cas as he lifted his head from the table and moved to lean in towards Dean. He kept eye contact the entire way, but his eyes crinkled with mirth when he saw Dean’s answering smile. ‘But I’m your asshole.’ And with that, he leaned in to kiss Dean’s waiting mouth, humming in satisfaction when he felt Dean’s fingers reach up to cup the sides of his face. ‘Plus,’ he said, reluctantly pulling away, mindful of the fact that they were still in public. ‘I’ve waited for you since I was fourteen, I’m pretty sure I’m going to handle this arrangement better than you.’

  
‘Fourteen!’ Dean squeaked.

  
‘Hmm,’ hummed Cas in acknowledgment, standing and deliberately putting himself inside Dean’s personal space. Dean nearly choked on his own tongue when Cas trailed a finger across his hipbone; even through denim, the sensation was electric. ‘Oh this is going to be so much fun,’ teased Cas.

  
‘You’re deliberately going to make this as hard as possible, aren’t you?’ Dean groaned in exasperation, then groaned in something else entirely when Cas cupped the front of his jeans and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

  
‘Don’t ask stupid questions, Dean. Of course I’m going to make this hard for you.’ He punctuated his words with a well-timed squeeze before turning and leaving the café.

  
Dean breathed in deeply through his nose trying to calm his heated blood.

  
‘Everything alright, sir?’ He cracked open one of his eyes to discover one of the waiters hovering on the other side of their table.

  
‘Yeah, fine,’ Dean replied as he reached into his wallet to throw down far more than was necessary to cover their bill (he was hoping they might actually be able to return here one day, Cas’ little floorshow notwithstanding). ‘Just wondering what I must have done in a past life to deserve that little shit as my boyfriend, y’know?’

He felt a thrum of excitement at owning Cas in those terms, even if it was to a stranger. He didn’t even wait for a response before he bolted for the door to find the probable love of his life leaning up against the side of his car in the late morning sunshine. Cas, god of sexual frustration that he was, tipped down the sunglasses he’d acquired from who-knows-where and smirked at Dean over the tops of the frames.

  
‘Coming?’ he didn’t even bother to hide the innuendo in his words.

  
‘You little fucker,’ Dean answered as he moved to press Cas further against the car with his hips.

  
‘Not for ‘a couple of months’ I’m not!’ Cas’ grin was pure rough wickedness and Dean saw no other way of shutting him up than sealing his mouth in a kiss that put all their others to shame.

  
‘Now, now, Dean,’ said Cas, pulling away somewhat reluctantly. ‘I don’t make the rules, I just follow them like the good little solider I am.’ How had Dean never noticed this side of Cas before? He was all confident lines and devilish, teasing smiles, completely at ease.

  
‘You’re going to be suffering through this as well, y’know?’ said Dean as he moved to put the car between their overheated bodies.

  
‘Oh but Dean, I have much more stamina when it comes to waiting than you do.’ He threw in a lewd flick of his eyes for good measure. ‘I’ll have you on your knees begging before the time’s up.’ There was a clear challenge in his eyes and Dean couldn’t help but fall just a little more in love with this brand new creature that was goading him from the other side of the car.

  
‘Shut up and get your ass in the car; we’re going to collect your stuff and then we’re going home!’ Dean growled.

  
‘Yes, Sir’ Cas snapped a mock salute and slid into the car leaving Dean to thump his head on the roof of the car in frustration.

  
‘Stupid goddamn big mouth…try to be the good guy and look where it gets you… ’

  
‘I can hear you, you know?’ Cas’ voice was all power and confidence; Dean had to violently resist the urge to rearrange the front of his jean, especially since the source of his torment was now sitting at crotch level. Instead he sent a silent prayer to the heavens that whatever his past transgressions might have been, could it please be arranged that Cas didn’t tease him into a sexually charged aneurism before he actually got a chance to fall into bed with the asshole?

He let the silence hang for a moment longer before slipping behind the wheel of one beloved and onto the bench seat next to a possible other.


End file.
